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Thursday, November 09, 2006

Slouching Towards Arunachala

Change is in the wind.This humble blog has over the monthsmorphed into a repository for a classical/neoadvaita wisdom collection. And that's allwell and good.But.Increasingly, say over dinner with a friendlast weekend when I launched into yet anotherstory of family craziness when asked "what'snew with you?", and at the end of yet anotherfamily story, after the friends rictus mouth silentlymouthing a Craig Ferguson Scottish "Whaaa?",after the "you gotta be kidding" and after the"Oh my God!", then comes "thats just too good,you gotta write this down", I came home andstarted writing it down, and to my surprise whatdeveloped wasn't a first person monologue atall, but a dialogue between someone who callshimself "Uncle Charlie", and someone frombeyond time and space named Toby. Achanneled entity.So.

AFarDistantHowl will continue as it is, withthis post, "Slouching Towards Arunachala"remaining on top, and having additions andand subtractions below the fold, but with theCharlie/Toby dialogue being the focus at thenew blog.

For ...

Stories are medicine, small doses of what matters,and it is the telling that releases the medicine, the tellingthat soothes our pain and shares our joy. . . . It hasalways been clear that the life of our expression andthe life of our stories are connected to our health.Mark Nepo in The Exquisite Risk

SoKeep coming back for additions and if you findyourself having an interest in some whitetrash channeled explorations, those of myfamily those of me, email me for my newtrailer house address at White Trash Lane.grantbishop1995@gmail.com